One Week's Time
by forever is never forever
Summary: Lucy runs the best apothecary in the Caribbean, it's known to lord and pirate alike. One day she meets one of the most powerful men in the Spanish Main and the pirate of legends. Both need her skills, but only one posses the payment she truly wants-adventure. Jack/OC
1. Chapter 1

Thanks for stopping by to check out my new story. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights to any characters created by Disney.

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Synchronized footsteps echoed through a narrow cobbled street of Port James. A warm summer breeze snaked its way around the buildings. The air was hot and rich with the scent of the tropics in bloom. Two soldiers lead a carriage down the road, which halted in front of an apothecary. The storefront window was decorated with colored glass bottles, which were filled with arrangements of herbs and flowers. A wooden sign hung in the middle with the owner's name in gold script. It was framed by the panes of the window.

A man of position and wealth stepped out. He was followed by his advisor, an older man who had seen many bloody days in his lifetime. The younger man clutched his left hand, which throbbed with pain. He walked towards the glass-paned door, one of the soldiers opened it as he entered. His advisor followed behind on his heels. A small bell chimed and the lord's bright blue eyes scanned the cluttered store. Containers of all sorts were placed on every flat surface. They were of metal, wood, earth, and glass. Most of which contained different concoctions of the almost unimaginable. While others simply held ingredients waiting to be mixed. Storage was not just regulated to containers, herbs hung by the window to dry. The store smelled earthy and fragrant. His piercing eyes caught a glimpse of a young woman maneuvering around the back room. She was no older than twenty-two and moved with deftness. Her chestnut hair danced as she went from place to place.

"Sir, why do you insist on going to this man?" his advisor asked, "You can have any physician at your disposal."

"Because Mr. Mercer unlike the others, I never have to make a return visit to Mr. Morgan," he replied.

Stepping forward, the lord cleared his throat. The brunette stopped in her tracks and peeked her head around the archway. Immediately, she hastily put down the case she was carrying. Passing the threshold, she greeted the two men with a quick curtsy.

"Good morning, Lord Beckett," she bowed her head, "Please pardon my tardiness."

"Where is Mr. Morgan?" Beckett demanded, "I need his services once more."

She raised her head, "Mr. Morgan left the store in my care. He did not tell you this on your last visit?"

"No, he neglected to enlighten me on such matters," he muttered, "Well, you must be capable of some of his skills if Morgan left you in charge."

"I was his apprentice for nearly ten years," she tried not to scoff, "So, yes, I am quite capable…milord."

Beckett smirked and extended his hand, "Can you fix this?"

"Certainly. Please, come with me," she replied.

"Mr. Mercer, wait outside," Beckett ordered.

"Yes, milord," Mercer turned on his heels.

The young woman gestured to a high back wooden chair. Removing his jacket, Beckett sat down and removed his tricorne. She tied back her hair with a worn ribbon and gathered supplies from various drawers and compartments. His eyes followed her every move, quiet and intense. Laying out the supplies on a cloth covered table, she took Beckett's hand into hers.

"What's your name?" he asked, startling her.

"Lucy, milord," she replied as she unwrapped the stained cloth around his hand.

"Lucy Morgan?" his brow rose.

"No, milord. Lucy Gale, Mr. Morgan is my uncle," Lucy explained as she worked.

Lucy washed the laceration on Beckett's hand in a basin. After patting the wound dry, she began opening the jars and tins that were placed on the table. She opened one small round tin filled with a paste. Lucy spread the mix around the wound and within a few minutes the radiating pain Beckett felt began to dissipate.

"A few more minutes and then I will bandage your hand," Lucy informed him.

"Where is Mr. Morgan now?" Beckett inquired.

"Port Royal, milord," she answered.

Taking small measurements of different ingredients, Lucy combined them all into a stone bowl. After a few minutes and the additions of the remaining components, the mixture was ready.

"Do you feel anything in your hand?" she asked.

"No, it's numb now," he replied.

"Good, this will only take a few moments," Lucy sat next to him.

Lucy placed his hand onto the table and picked up the bowl. Quickly, she spread the paste on and around the laceration. Beckett followed the fluid movements of her hands. His eyes traveled up the stretch of her strong arms and eventually to her face, which bore a concentrated expression. Her hazel eyes fixated on the back of Beckett's hand.

Grabbing a clean length of linen, Lucy wrapped the cloth around his hand. She secured the bandage with a knot and stood up, before she walked away Beckett stopped her. The sudden contact caught Lucy by surprise.

"Do I make you uncomfortable Miss Gale?" he gave her a small smile.

Lucy shook her head, "No, milord."

"I sense that's a lie," Beckett remarked as he stood up.

He pulled her closer, his wounded hand found its way to her waist. Lucy looked over her shoulder towards the door. Her eyes caught sight of the two soldiers outside her door. She placed her hand on top of his, "Aren't you worried about wandering eyes?"

"They know not to speak unless they wish to face known consequences," he shrugged.

"You are quite bold," she observed.

"And you are not meek," Beckett looked up at her.

She nodded, "That I am not. Perhaps you are not meek enough."

His hand slowly moved up her back, "Is that so?"

"You say that your soldiers won't talk, but you know that's not true. If you were fraternizing with a lady of your stature that would be nothing new," Lucy place her hand on his arm, "But, with me…"

"No one will know," Beckett replied.

"Is that a threat?" her eyes narrowed.

"Think of it as a promise," he shrugged.

Removing his hand from her back, she stepped back, "I need to finish."

She moved back to the table. With a small wooden spatula, Lucy scraped the remaining contents of the bowl into a small tin. She packaged up the tin with several more pieces of linen, tying it up with twine. Beckett took the package from her after pulling his jacket back on.

"Change the linen every other day. And with each change coat the wound in this mixture," she instructed.

"I understand you accept barter in lieu of payment," Beckett stated.

"Surely, Lord Beckett, you are not saying that you do not have the five guinea for my services?" her brow quirked.

"I can offer you something better than your paltry fee," he offered.

"And what would that be, milord?" her interest peeked.

"Anything you could ever want," Beckett taunted.

In an instant, fine silk dresses and spongy cakes with rich frosting crossed her mind. The temptation was almost too much for her to accept without another thought. The thought of leaving the families and individuals who relied on her skills grounded her though. Lucy was thankful they immediately crossed her mind. She gave him a polite smile.

"Well, if it is all the same to you Lord Beckett then I would prefer my payment," Lucy replied earnestly.

"You cannot tell me that you would rather tend to the festering wounds of the masses?" he questioned.

"I can't let my good uncle's craft and legacy die just to eat cake," she argued, "What is that you want, Lord Beckett?"

He picked at the lint on his jacket, "You."

"I beg your pardon?" she gulped.

"You and your skills," Beckett clarified.

Lucy leaned against the table, "And why do you need them?"

"I want you to accompany me on Company voyages," he explained, "You're as deftly skilled as your uncle and I need my men in working order."

"Is that all you want?" she stared at the floor.

"Professionally speaking, yes," he answered.

She glanced up at him, "And what of your personal affaires?"

"As you say, I need a lady of class," Beckett reiterated.

"For a proper marriage, yes," Lucy replied.

"Luckily, I have no interest in marriage," he whispered.

Beckett gave her a grin as he placed the wrapped parcel on the table. In another step, he was in front of her with his hands gripping the table on either side of her. A breath hitched in her throat as she tried to back away in vain.

"Are you trying to have me now?" she scoffed.

"Would you object?"

"Can I?" Lucy retorted.

"Would you be more inclined if I did so properly?" he questioned.

"Would you though?" she questioned.

Beckett leaned in, his lips by her ears, "I would consider it. It would be a mutually beneficial business measure for both of us."

"How is this good for me, exactly?"

"Are you never satisfied, Miss Grace?" he wondered as he straightened his stance.

"Not until I have all the answers I need," Lucy returned.

He huffed quietly, this was not going as quickly as planned, "Smart girl. You would always have a client. I would funnel my wounded to you and I just ask that you accompany me when I travel with the Company in return."

"I need time to think about this," she admitted.

"Fine," Beckett cupped her cheek and brought his lips to hers. He kissed her forcefully, leaving her off guard. Lucy had never been kissed with such fervor before, "You have one week."

He kissed her again, more gently this time. Lucy reciprocated, if only halfheartedly. A moment later, Beckett walked out of the apothecary with parcel and tricorne in hand. The bell chimed again and the door closed. Lucy exhaled slowly as she brought her hand to her cheek. Her uncle always said Lord Beckett was demanding, but Lucy never thought to this extent.

"He could have any well-to-do woman in the Caribbean, why me?" she muttered.

Lucy cleaned up the supplies on the table and brought them into the back of the store. Placing the soiled utensils in a deep wash basin, she wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist. Pulling the ribbon from her hair, Lucy shook her head and allowed her wavy hair to fall onto her shoulders. Grabbing a piece of bread from the basket, she sat down at her table which was in disarray. Lucy spread a dab of butter on her bread as she mulled over Beckett's offer.

"The continuous income would allow me to keep every ingredient in stock," she thought to herself, "But, at what cost? A marriage to Beckett? Or everything else but a marriage?"

Lucy shuddered at the thought. She knew that Beckett wanted her physically and seemingly no more than that. Wondering if he would simply take what he wanted sent a shiver up her spine. She took a bite of bread and another thought crossed her mind. If marriage to Beckett was inevitable, then would she even be able to run the apothecary?

"Unlikely," she groaned, "It would be all for naught."

Finishing her slice of bread, Lucy stood up. There was still a day's work to be done. Salves to be mixed and tonics to be brewed. She brushed the crumbs away and went back into the store.

Hours passed and morning turned into afternoon. Her day was uneventful, but Lucy took solace in the unusual peace. As she packaged up deliveries for the next day, she heard the bell chime once more. Lucy began pulling her hair back as she walked into the storefront. Her new visitors were a young boy of noble blood and his nursemaid. The young boy had a stained cloth wrapped around his small arm.

"Hello," Lucy greeted them.

"Miss Grace, is it?" the woman inquired.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"Master Michael fell and he is in need of your attention," the nursemaid explained.

"I was looking for pirates!" Michael boasted.

"Oh?" Lucy indulged the boy, "Did you see any?"

"Yes! I saw a ship with black sails," he exclaimed.

The nursemaid scolded him, "Master Michael you know it is not good to tell lies."

"I am not lying," Michael argued.

"Well, why don't you sit in that chair over there and I will make sure you are all better to keep looking for more pirates," Lucy coaxed.

Michael nodded and they moved over to Lucy's work station. She quickly cleaned and set the wound. As soon as she finished the anchored knot on the linen bandage, Michael hopped off the chair. He wagged his finger and Lucy leaned in closer.

"I did see a ship with black sails," his voice was earnest, "It was the Black Pearl!"

"Jack Sparrow's ship?"

"Captain!" Michael corrected.

Lucy feigned shame as she covered her lips, "Right, Captain Sparrow."

"We must be going now," the nursemaid chimed in.

"Of course," Lucy stood up.

"Five guineas is the fee for your services?" the nursemaid asked.

Lucy nodded, "Yes."

The nursemaid placed the coins in Lucy's palm and then gathered the boy and a similar parcel Beckett took with him as well. She shuffled him out of the apothecary. Little Michael craned his head to the side as he waved to Lucy. She smiled as waved back. Lucy placed the payment in a wooden box, which she slide back into its proper place, the desk drawer.

After gathering the used supplies and placing them in the ever growing pile by the wash bin, Lucy finished up her orders for the next day. The warm sun descended into the horizon and the sounds of the night rose. Lucy took this cue and closed up her shop. She made sure everything was in order before taking to the narrow staircase in the back of the store.

At the top of the stairs, she entered her living area. The modest space was decorated with rich colors and different oddities that were used in lieu of payment. Some of her décor's origins were from the Far East. Lucy dreamed up the adventure it took as it traveled from owner to owner. Never in her life did Lucy think she would be envious of a piece of carved wood.

Once her dinner was finished, Lucy drew herself a hot bath. As she filled the tub with water, she dropped in salts and oils that filled the room with a soothing fragrance. Removing her dress, corset, and petticoat, Lucy lowered her body into the water. Letting out a content sigh, she leaned back and allowed the water to come up to her chin. Her relaxation was soon interrupted by Beckett's offer creeping back into her thoughts.

"The benefits will only last as long as they aren't a nuisance to Beckett," she thought, "And running off to care for people who mean nothing to him is hardly something he would overlook."

She allowed her mind to wander onto other topics. Lucy did not want to try to decipher Beckett's ulterior motives any longer. Closing her eyes, she wondered if the young boy was telling the truth earlier. Lucy doubted it, children have wild imaginations.

Time passed and her water grew cold. Pulling the stopper, Lucy stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself up in a thick towel. Once dry, she slipped into her nightdress and headed for her bedroom. As she passed the stairwell, Lucy heard the distinct sound of breaking glass. Her heart began to race as a million thoughts crossed her mind. Crouching down, she listened hard for any other sound. What she heard, or so she thought, was the muttering and footsteps of someone in her shop. Inhaling sharply, Lucy dashed to her room. She came to a stop at the end table by her bed and reached for the drawer. Lucy pulled with such force that the table nearly fell on top of her. Her hands frantically searched for the pistol in the drawer.

The moment her hand felt the smooth metal of the barrel, relief washed over her but left just as quickly. Cocking the pistol, she slowly crept down the stairs. From the back room, Lucy saw the dull, flickering orange of a lit candle come from the storefront. Silently, she entered the room. The intruder's back was to her. She surmised he was a pirate by his dress. Her breath was shallow but steady as she raised the pistol to the pirate's head.

"You don't want to be doing that, love," the pirate warned.

The sudden sound of his voice caused Lucy to jump, which allowed the pirate enough leeway to pin her against the table. Stunned, she dropped the pistol, which slid across the room quite out of her reach.

"Morgan never told me he had a daughter," he eyed curiously, "What your name?"

"Lucy and I'm not his daughter," she snapped.

"Ah, mistress then?" the pirate's brow quirked.

Her eyes narrowed, "Niece."

He shrugged, "Makes more sense."

"Indeed. Now, let me go," Lucy demanded.

"Only so long as you agree not to try to kill me," he countered.

She looked down and saw the glinting metal of a pistol tucked safely between two belts of cloth and leather. Her gaze quickly returned to his, but the pirate already knew what she was conspiring. Realizing he knew her plan, Lucy sloppily lunged her hand forward. The pirate quickly caught her by the wrist.

"Darling, you are either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," he scolded.

"How do you know that's what I was reaching for?" she feigned a sultry smile.

The pirate laughed, "You trying to bed me?"

"Uh…no," Lucy slumped back, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Morgan," he answered.

"Well, as you can see he is not here," Lucy replied, "How do you know him?"

"Old Morgan and I go back to when I work for the Company," he explained.

"Well, mister, how can I help you?" she pulled herself onto the table and out of his grasp.

"Captain," he corrected.

"Captain…" she began.

"Jack Sparrow," Jack filled in.

Lucy gaped at him, amazed that the legendary pirate was in her midst. She then laughed, hours earlier she had the head of the East India Trading Company standing in the same room.

"What's so amusing?" he wondered with a turn of the head.

"Lord Beckett stood where you stand now, only hours ago," Lucy chuckled, "That's some sort of irony."

Jack involuntarily rubbed his right wrist and grimaced, "A gross irony."

"So, Captain, you didn't tell what brought you here," Lucy reminded him.

"Ah, right," Jack exclaimed.

Pulling up his shirt sleeve, which Lucy now noticed was dotted with blood, he revealed a long gash. Taking his arm into her hands, Lucy studied the wound. She began making a list of the needed supplies in her head.

"An easy fix," Lucy gently lowered his arm, "Stitches required though."

Motioning to the chair, Lucy lit several more candles and she went around the room to gather the materials. Midway through illuminating the room, she realized she was only in her nightdress. Lucy was passed embarrassment and continued on with a little sigh. Reaching for a tall tin, she found that there was just enough of the crushed herb for Jack but nothing more. A staple in her practice, she chided herself for not realizing she needed more.

Lucy brought the ingredients over to the table next to where Jack sat. She filled another wash basin with warm water from the wood stove and allowed his arm to soak while she put together another concoction.

"Your first mate couldn't do this?" Lucy inquired.

"He could, but when I'm near Port James I make a visit to your uncle," Jack explained, "Always less pain involved."

Lucy nodded. She removed his arm from the water and carefully dried it. Threading a needle, Lucy ran the metal and thread through a shallow pan filled with pure alcohol. She looked up to Jack, "Ready?"

"I'd be more ready with rum," he mentioned.

"One moment," Lucy left for the back room and returned just as quickly, bottle in hand. With a familiar pop, she uncorked the bottle and took a small swig before handing it off to Jack.

"Better?"

"Abundantly," Jack took a long drink, "Commence!"

Lucy obliged. Several uncomfortable minutes later, his wound was stitched. She spread the mixture she made on the wound and began to bandage it, "How did you know I was behind you?"

"I heard your bloody ruckus upstairs," Jack smirked, "The element in the element of surprise is silence, love."

"I know that, but fear does a funny thing to a person," she reasoned.

"You don't know yourself until terror is in your veins," he mused after another sip.

Lucy stole the bottle from his hand and took a drink, "You're all patched up. You need to return to have the stitches removed."

"That me first mate can handle," Jack assured her.

"Fine, but remember to change the bandage," Lucy instructed as she put the remnants of the mixture into a tin, which she then handed to the pirate with some clean bandages.

"What do I owe you?" Jack stood up.

"What would you give my uncle?" she asked.

"A good story and three bottles of French wine," he recalled.

"A fair barter," she smiled.

"But that's not what you want," Jack replied, knowingly.

She passed the nearly finished bottle of rum back, "I need to get to Tortuga…and back."

"What for?" Jack asked.

"I need to restock a few items and the only place I know where I can get them is Tortuga," Lucy explained.

Jack waved his hand forward, wanting her to continue, "Come on, out with it."

"And so I can avoid the East India Trading Company. If I buy from them then I'm paying triple its worth. Business is steady, but not prolific," she concluded.

"A wise decision," he agreed with the final drop of rum passing his lips.

"So, Captain Sparrow do we have an accord?" Lucy asked as she stuck out her hand.

Taking her hand into his, he shook it firmly, "Aye, we do."

"And how may days will we be gone?"

"Six days. Two there, two in port, and two back," Jack reported.

Lucy nodded, "When shall I meet you at the docks?"

"Love, I think it'd be best if I come to you," he answered, "There are the unscrupulous sorts down by those docks."

"All right," she nodded, "When shall I expect you?"

"Noon," Jack replied.

"Until then," Lucy bid him farewell.

Jack gave her a mock bow and placed his leather tricorne on top of his head. Grabbing his jacket and parcel, he sauntered out towards the door. Lucy walked behind him catching the scent of spice and sea. It was intoxicating. Stopping at the door, she leaned against the frame. Jack turned on his heels to face her, "Now listen, darling, I am simply a vessel to take you to and fro. I will not watch after you."

"I did not ask you to," she replied.

"Have you ever been to Tortuga by yourself?" Jack questioned.

Lucy was quiet for a moment, "No, I would go with my uncle."

"Oy…" Jack grunted, "You're putting me in a tough place."

"I'm going midday, I suspect half the populace won't even be conscious by then," she argued, "I don't need a nursemaid. I'll stay out of trouble come nightfall too."

"I trust me crew, but after few hours in the taverns anything is possible," he said.

"Are you saying you won't take me?" her brow rose.

"No," Jack sighed, "You're just going to be attached to me bloody hip that's all."

She looked down for a moment, "You don't have to do this."

"Well, I don't have more than three guinea on me person or three bottles of wine," he shrugged, "Noon, tomorrow."

Lucy watched Jack disappear into the shadows. Stepping back into the storefront, she smiled. In a few hours Captain Jack Sparrow would be knocking on her door for a little adventure.

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I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for adding this story to your favorites! It means a lot. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

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The warm Caribbean sun crept over the horizon and filled the apothecary with a comforting light. Lucy had already been up an hour before. She was brimming with energy. The excitement of adventure pumped through her veins as she prepared to leave. She prepared a small knapsack for her trip after readying the shop for her departure. It was filled with small essentials she thought she would need.

Placing her bag by the door, Lucy saw her friend walking up the street. She was slender with fiery red hair and big eyes. The young woman entered the shop and greeted Lucy.

"Good morning, Lucy," the wiry haired girl said.

"Hello Maggie," Lucy grinned, "I never expected to see you by sun up. I think I only ever see you by sunset and no earlier. How are you?"

"Fine. And, you make sound like I'm some sort of common whore," Maggie eyed the knapsack on the table, "Heading off?"

"Well, I hardly see you during the day. That is all I am saying. I am off," she nodded.

"With that man from yesterday?" Maggie's brow rose.

Lucy's eyes narrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"There has been some talk," Maggie replied vaguely.

"Rumors," she corrected, "So, what are they?"

"You and Lord Beckett," Maggie began as she sat down, "I heard that you two are quite close."

"From who?" Lucy demanded.

"Meredith Dodd saw you and the good lord sharing a kiss through the store window," she recalled.

Lucy sighed, "It was very one-sided."

"Oh?" Maggie's interest peaked, "How so?"

"One moment I'm bandaging his hand and the next I'm pinned between him and this table. His lips were against mine and then they weren't," her hand tapped the wooden surface, "Nothing will come of that."

"His maids say otherwise," Maggie teased, "So, if not Beckett then who?"

"Will Turner," she answered, unblinkingly, "He's going to Port Royal and I need some supplies."

Lucy knew too well that Maggie cannot keep secrets nor would Maggie believe that she was going off with the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Will was truly on his way to Port Royal and could not discredit Lucy, luckily. Elizabeth Turner could, but she and Maggie were not so friendly with one another. However, what Lucy didn't expect her friend to go in the other direction.

"You and Will Turner?" she gasped.

"No! Never," Lucy assured her, "He is just being kind enough to get me a passage there and back."

"Quite kind," Maggie commented.

"Stop," Lucy implored, "Nothing improper will happen or has happened."

Maggie looked at her curiously, "Well, why not?"

"What do you mean why not? Are you asking why I'm not off galavanting with Lord Beckett or Will Turner?" she wondered.

"You could use an adventure," Maggie shrugged.

"Perhaps," Lucy mumbled, "So what brings you down to my end so early?"

"My mother wanted the first loaves of bread from the bakery today," she groaned, "My two aunts are coming to visit so nothing but the best."

Lucy grinned and gave her friend a knowing look, "Is that so?"

"How do you always know?" she chuckled, "Fine, Lord Barrymore's wife came to summer earlier than expected. Luckily, his one well paid servant saw her at the docks and alerted Lord Barrymore. I saw her carriage pull up to the mansion just as I left."

Maggie had a brilliant proposition going on with Lord Barrymore. He couldn't expose their tryst without condemning himself. Even if he were to happen, Maggie wasn't concerned. Her mother, Katherine-one of the strongest matriarchs in the Caribbean, would never let one slanderous word about her daughter spread. She was blind to Maggie's doings and fiercely protective. Nevertheless, Maggie felt no shame. She and Barrymore mutually enjoyed each other's company.

"Why the story of the bakery then? You never lie to me," Lucy feigned hurt.

"No lie. My aunts really are coming," Maggie replied smartly, "Why she couldn't send Leah I will never know."

"When you see her, send Lady Katherine my regards," she asked.

"And she will just say how it's a travesty that you still work here," Maggie reminded her friend.

"Yes, yes, I know. And she will tell you to offer her home to me again," Lucy recalled, mocking Katherine's voice, "Oh and that if I don't marry soon I never well."

Maggie smiled, "Well I must be off lest I get the second batch of bread. Enjoy Port Royal and get a little excitement while you are away."

"Not to be found in Port Royal," Lucy added.

"Save for Jack Sparrow," Maggie swooned.

Lucy hugged her, "I'll be sure to tell him hello."

"Please do," she joked.

Waving goodbye, Maggie left shop to run her errands. Not long after, Lucy placed a placard on the storefront door. She made her rounds to her usual customers to let them know of her absence. As she jumped from home to home, Lucy ducked into a couple of shops to pick up some necessities for her voyage. The sun rose over her shoulder, warming her skin as she wandered the streets of the island.

Lucy rounded the corner and found Jack leaning against the door frame. He glanced up at her from under the brim of his hat. Stepping forward, Jack met her half way up the street, "Hello, darling."

"You're early, Captain," she emphasized his self-given title.

"Surprised?" his brow rose.

"Perhaps a little," Lucy shrugged as she unlocked her shop door.

Jack trailed in behind her, closing the door behind him, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she answered, "Just a moment."

Quickly, Lucy packed away her purchases from town into the rucksack. The pirate eyed what she had bought, which was a wedge of cheese, a small bottle of wine, and a hearty loaf of bread, "Oy, you think I won't feed you?"

"I didn't want to impose," Lucy replied as she pulled the drawstrings of the bag, "Let's go."

The captain took her rucksack and guided her out the door, which elicited a strange glance from Lucy. Jack returned it with one of his own, "What is it, love?"

"I can carry my own belongings," she pointed out as they left the store.

"I know that, but I must work off my debt," the pirate reminded her.

"Right, of course," Lucy agreed.

He and Lucy walked the back alleys towards the docks, which allowed them some cover from prying eyes. They only received a passing glance. The open water came into view, but neither ventured out on to the open street. Lucy looked over to Jack, "Does your crew know I'm coming along?"

"I told me first mate and instructed him to tell the crew," Jack explained, "Are you worried?"

"Somewhat," she admitted.

"Surely you've worked with patients with rough edges. And you were quite bold with that pistol of yours last night," he reminded her.

"Yes, but that was in my shop. It's a place a I know well," Lucy reasoned, "But, a ship is different and quite enclosed."

"Ah, but the Pearl is anything but trapping," Jack assured her, "The Pearl is freedom."

Lucy grinned, "You're quite in love with her."

"My true love is the sea," he added, "Shall we?"

Jack stuck the crook of his arm out, which elicited a laugh from Lucy. She linked her arm with his and they strolled up to the ship. She was the ship of legends, the Black Pearl. Her infamous black sails fluttered in the sea breeze. Leading the way up the gangplank, Jack directed her straight to his quarters. Shutting the door behind him, he turned to Lucy and passed the rucksack to her.

"Captain's quarters," Lucy looked around, "Do I get to sit at the table as well?"

"Of course, darling," Jack smirked, "Now, your bed is through there."

Lucy followed Jack's extended arm, which pointed to a bead covered archway. She nodded, but before leaving to deposit her belongings Lucy continued to study the room. It was in an organized clutter of sorts. Charts and maps were strew about. A plush looking bed was in one corner and a wardrobe in the other. A wooden hexagon-shaped table stood in the middle. It surrounded by three mismatched chairs. Every flat surface was covered with trinkets of success plunders, which even climbed the walls as well. Several commissioned portraits as well as scenery paintings hung from the wall. The cabin smelled of spice, rum, and salty air-it was strangely comforting.

"I'll leave you to settle in," Jack excused himself.

Taking a cautious step, Lucy walked towards the connecting room. As Lucy turned the corner, she found a single bed and a narrow dresser. Opposite from where she stood, was a wall of plated windows. One opened to a small balcony. She sat upon the bed and began to unpack her rucksack. Pulling the coarse drawstrings, Lucy organized her belongings in the dresser. Afterwards, she stood up and finally noticed the subtle rocking of the ship. It was both unsettling and calming. Moments later, she emerged from Jack's quarters.

Her eyes squinted in the glaring light. Once her eyes finally adjusted Lucy found herself face to face with Jack's first mate, Gibbs. He studied her, "You must be Miss Gale."

"I am, but call me Lucy. You must be Jack's first mate," she returned.

"Aye, and proudly," Gibbs answered, "Jack be up at the helm."

Lucy nodded and took to the stairs. Spotting her, Jack passed off the wheel to Mr. Cotton and his parrot. He met her at the top of the stairs, "Everything to your liking?"

"You say it like I have a choice," she chuckled, "But, yes, it's all fine."

"I could always put you down with the crew," Jack replied, "We'll be setting sail in a few minutes."

"What would you like me to do during the voyage?" Lucy inquired.

"Try not to get yourself in trouble," he half heartedly joked, "Or fall over board."

"Fair enough."

Jack stepped closer to her, closing the gap between them, "Now darling, I can tell you where not to go. Of course, I can't keep you from going where you please no matter what I say. But, if I were you I would stick to the deck and my quarters."

"You don't trust your crew?" she was slightly surprised.

He shook his head, "I've sailed with some of these men for nearly ten years and some just came on today."

"I see," she paused, "Should I expect to see you whenever I look over my shoulder?"

"No, but my crew should," Jack replied, darkly.

"Are you always this protective of your unexpected companions?" Lucy asked, curious.

"Most don't stay the night let alone for a voyage," he explained, "You don't need undue harm, regardless of why you're here."

Lucy placed her hand on Jack's forearm, "I'll leave to you prepare for departure."

"You'll be seeing that horizon soon," he assured her.

As she walked away, Jack caught the scent of her perfume. He held onto the breath as long as his lungs would allow. Strolling back to the helm, Jack shooed Cotton away. His parrot squawked in protest. He tried to cast out the warming smell of her perfume.

"Easy there mate," he murmured to himself, "Not the wisest of ideas."

Lucy ducked back into Jack's quarters and picked out a book from the bottom of her rucksack. She went back on to the deck and found a shady corner by the steps leading up to the helm. Picking up from where she left off, Lucy read a few lines. However, she was distracted by the buzzing movement on deck.

Hours passed and Lucy stared out into the seeming infinite sea from every angle on the deck. As the sun began to set, she stood at the bow. Cleansing salt air filled her lungs. She inhaled deeply, savoring the feeling. Footsteps approached, which prompted Lucy to turn around. Jack sauntered up to her, "Evening, love."

"Hello," she greeted.

"Supper is ready," he informed her as he came up next to her.

"Oh good!"

Jack laughed, "Hungry are you?"

"A bit, yes," she nodded, "Only so much cheese I can eat in one day."

"Understandable," Jack agreed, "Join me?"

Lucy took his extended hand. They walked in the contrasting and lanky shadows that continued to grow as the sun set further. Entering his cabin, Lucy found a full spread of food laid out on the table. Jack helped push in her chair and soon joined Lucy at the table. After passing her a plate with a sample of the dinner, Jack portioned out his own.

"Your men keep giving me a peculiar look," Lucy explained after a bite, "What exactly did you say about me to Mr. Gibbs?"

"I said that Morgan's niece need a pass to Tortuga," Jack shrugged, "You know how the grapevine works."

"Of course," she sighed, "One more question."

"I sense this will require some rum," Jack announced.

Lucy watched him walk around the room, picking up various bottles. Eventually, Jack located two full bottles and pair of matching glasses. He poured each of them a drink, "So what's this question?"

"What do you know of Lord Beckett?" Lucy took a sip.

"I was right about the rum," Jack commented, "What do you want to know?"

"This may sound quite stupid, but should one even entertain the idea of a business accord with him?" she looked at him sheepishly.

"Depends on how much of yourself you're willing to give up," he replied, "Why do you ask?"

Lucy took a bigger gulp of the rum, "He proposed an offer to me, but I think is it merely a ploy to get me to bed him."

"Darling, if he truly wanted to have you by now he would have. But, that requires much effort and Beckett can be conservative in that matter," Jack reveled nonchalantly.

"You're not just saying this to frighten me are you?" her brow quirked.

"Are you trying to find a reason to agree to this proposition?" Jack countered, after a long drink.

"No, but you make it sound as though I truly don't have a choice," Lucy muttered.

"Because you don't," Jack said flatly.

Lucy filled her glass after another bite of dinner, "So, what do I do?"

"Stave him off for as long as possible," he advised, "Disappear if you can."

"Well, that's quite difficult since Beckett is coming back the day after we arrive in Port James," she groaned.

"I can always leave you in Tortuga," Jack offered with a grin.

"I wish that were an option," Lucy finished her meal.

Jack pushed back his empty plate with a content sigh, "My advice, love, is to run so fast he can't keep up."

"So the pirate that singlehandedly immobilized the Company's branch in India for nearly two months is telling me to run?" she shook her head.

"Lucy, not every escape can be a grand spectacle. I would even say it would be counterproductive for an escape to be so," Jack reasoned.

"I don't want to run or hide. I just want a means of assuring myself that when I decline Beckett's proposition I will be safe," she elaborated with a wave of the hand.

"You know," Jack paused to take a sip from his cup, "death has a funny way of opening doors."

Lucy sat up, "Captain Sparrow, are you suggesting that I kill Lord Beckett?"

"Or render him incapacitated," he rephrased, "I know Morgan must've shown you some tricks of the trade."

"I suspect that would cause me more trouble than Beckett's proposal alone," she mused, "Well, I have five more days to fix this mess."

"I concur, for now, let's celebrate," Jack raised his goblet.

Following suit, Lucy clanked her glass to his, "And what might we be celebrating?"

"Health, prosperity, and…er, I need few reasons to enjoy a drink of rum," Jack shrugged, "Oh! Adventure, how about that?"

"Ah, yes, to adventure," she tipped her glass to him before taking a long sip.

Jack finished off what was left in his own. After refilling his cup, Jack opened the second bottle. So ensued hours of stories and jokes between the pirate and the young woman. More than once did Jack don a prop of sorts as he told his tales. Lucy did many impersonations of her strangest patients. Between stories, Jack showed her different trophies from his many plunders across the Caribbean. One was a set of music boxes, which they wound and listened to.

As the neared the bottom of the second bottle of rum, Lucy was well into the feeling of being carefree and light. Jack was on his way as well.

"I don't want to be Mrs. Beckett," she confessed, "or would I be Lady Beckett?"

"I don't know that Beckett is the marrying type," Jack countered, "Especially, if he just wants to get you to bed him."

"I thought he was going to have me right there in my shop yesterday," Lucy recalled, "I think what stopped him was his escort of soldiers."

Jack looked over to her, "He usually has more finesse than that."

"I wouldn't know," she threw up her hands.

"Do you want to?" he inquired after a short pause.

"Want to what?"

"Know what to expect from our mutual friend," Jack clarified.

Lucy perked up, "You've been holding back?"

"I wanted to see how distressed you were about this. Nearly, two bottles of rum gone and you're still talking about him," the captain explained.

"Out with it," she waved her hands.

"He won't stop or lose interest," Jack divulged, "Beckett is forceful and enjoys a challenge."

She listened intently and allowed Jack's words to sink in, "How do you know this?"

"We each left a mark on the other," he replied after taking the final swing of rum.

His response received a confused look from Lucy. Setting the bottle down, Jack pulled up his worn shirt sleeve. The fabric reveled a 'P' branded on to his wrist.

"I'm sorry," Lucy whispered.

"Don't be," Jack stood up.

Following suit, Lucy took his scarred arm into her hands, which she rubbed it gently. Impulsively, Jack stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek. His breath was hot against her skin. Lucy gripped the lapels of his shirt as Jack's freed arm curved around her waist. Their foreheads met. She looked up at him.

"I…I haven't…," Lucy stammered.

Jack quelled her hesitation with a soft kiss. Wrapping her hand around his neck, she reciprocated. After a moment, Lucy broke away for a breath, "Must be all the rum."

"I think so," Jack chuckled.

"Don't stop," Lucy kissed him again.

* * *

Thanks again for stopping by! Drop me a review if you feel so inclined. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone, I'm sorry for such a long delay! I hope you enjoy this update, there's a little lemon at the end. ;) You can skip it if you so desire though.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than my own characters.

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A fine rain hit the windows of Jack's cabin. Through the night, the Pearl had sailed into a storm. Thankfully, it was not the worst she would ever weather. However, the storm churned up choppy waters, which caused the Pearl to lurch dramatically. One particular wave hit hard enough to wake Lucy from a dead sleep. She looked around the cabin, dazed for a moment. As her confusion subsided, Lucy became acutely aware of her headache and nausea. She tried to bring her hand to her forehead, but found it to be caught. Looking down, Lucy found Jack strewn between her legs. His fingers interlaced with her own. He was dead asleep with his head resting on her stomach. His arm wrapped along her side. Possessively or protectively, Lucy was unsure of.

"Jack," she called, struggling to sit up.

Lucy received nothing more than a low groan, which elicited a sigh from her.

She shoved him slightly, "Jack."

"What is it, love?" he whispered as he picked his head up.

"I need you to move," she explained.

Jack blinked away the bleary tiredness from his eyes and found himself face to face with her bare breasts. He smirked, "Why would I leave this wonderful site, though?"

"Because I feel quite ill and I will be sick either here or out the window. Your choice, captain," Lucy reasoned.

"That's quite a bit of incentive," Jack agreed as he rolled over.

Lucy jumped up and ran for the window. She stared at the swirling gray water below as she heaved and shuddered. She shut her eyes tight as she fought another wave of nausea. He hair, wet from the rain and the ocean spray, clung to her face. After a long moment, it passed, which was a great relief for her. Wiping her mouth, Lucy retracted back into cabin. She was cold and soaked to the bone. Jack handed her heavy towel, which she wrapped around her body.

"Are you all right, love?" Jack's brow quirked.

"I believe so," Lucy nodded, pushing her hair out of her face.

Taking ahold of the ends of the towel, Jack guided Lucy back to his bed. Their bodies fell onto the mattress and rolled under the feather filled comforter. She straddled his waist as Jack's head lay in the crook of Lucy's neck.

"We can't stay here all day," Lucy protested halfheartedly.

"Why not?" Jack wondered as his warm hands cupped her sides.

She smiled, "Don't you have to navigate us through these treacherous seas?"

"No, that duty I have deferred to Mr. Gibbs. I merely provide him with a heading," Jack chuckled.

He inhaled sharply, catching the lingering smell of her perfume. Kissing her neck, Jack sighed contently. Lucy stroked his shoulder, mindlessly, "Is this how it will be?"

"How what will be, love?" his hand moved to her stomach.

"Every time you come to Port James, you visit and we fall into bed together?" she explained.

Jack hummed, "You don't want to sail the seven seas with me and discover uncharted lands?"

"I have people who need me back home," she replied.

"You're not saying no," he argued.

Lucy laughed, "I enjoy my work."

"And what will Beckett say? I can't believe he would consent to me climbing into his bed," Jack argued.

"I don't want to think about sharing a bed with him," she groaned, still feeling the pounding pain in her head, "For one night or a lifetime."

Jack gave her a devilish grin as his hand slipped between her thighs, finding her bud, "Then don't."

Lucy kissed him, her forehand pressed to his. She shuddered as Jack's fingers developed a rhythm. Her body wanted it to continue, but the throbbing in Lucy's head won the battle. Her hand found his, which caused his fingers to pause. Jack's eyes met hers, "What is it?"

"I can't," she replied.

He gave her a puzzled look, "Can't what?"

"I can't do it again. Not at the moment, at least," she explained, "I feel like my skull has been cracked into two."

"Not a drinking girl?" Jack chuckled.

Lucy grimaced, "Not a frequent one and not in such quantities."

"You're in luck, darling. Your good uncle taught me how to make an elixir that'll fix you," Jack sat up.

"Please get it," she asked as she rolled off of him, "or make it."

Jack got out of bed and sauntered over to the windowsill. Picking up various bottles, the captain inspected them carefully. From the bed, Lucy ogled at Jack's bare body. Her eyes darted between tattoos and scars, which she had only gotten glimpses of the night prior. She could still feel the unusual smoothness of the scars against her fingers. The pirate looked up for a moment and caught her gaze. Face flushed, Lucy covered her face as she laughed-embarrassed.

"You weren't so self-conscious last night," he reminded her, grinning.

"I was drunk. I wasn't self-aware," Lucy buried her face into the pillow.

Passing the bottle to her open hand, Jack sat on the edge of the bed. Lucy propped herself up on her elbows enough to take a long drink from the bottle. She handed it off to Jack, he took a swig as well.

"Better?" Jack inquired after a while.

"Immeasurably," she replied, thankfully, "I am quite appreciative."

Jack nodded, "Of course, darling."

Sitting up, Lucy stretched. It was accompanied by a loud yawn, "I don't know about you, but I am famished."

"I could use a bite," Jack agreed as he stood up.

Crawling out of bed, Lucy looked around the cabin floor, "What happened to my dress?"

"I prefer you like this," Jack motioned.

She chuckled, "Yes, I'm sure you do. This is outfit, or lack thereof, is not one to do business in."

"Perhaps, darling, you're not in the right business," he replied, pulling the drawstrings of his trousers.

"Is that so?"

"Quite," Jack grinned as he picked up her dress from under the table, "Oh, look at what I found."

"Hand it over," Lucy extended her arm.

Jack took her hand and pulled Lucy close to him. Placing his other hand on the small of her back, he kissed her. She kissed him back, with fervor. As he broke the kiss, Jack handed the dress off to her. Lucy smiled and pecked him on the cheek, "Thank you."

"Again, I will express my partiality to this manner of dress," Jack splayed his hand and brought it down to rest on her butt cheek, giving it a squeeze.

"You can say it all you want, but I will not be walking around this vessel, let alone Tortuga, in nothing but my skin," she argued.

"How about just the shift?" he bartered.

She shook her head as she dropped to the floor and out of Jack's grasp. Her hand felt around underneath the table for her other garments. Eventually, her fingers came across the soft fabric of her shift and the stiff material of her corset. Standing up, Lucy pulled the shift over her head. Jack watched her as he dressed. She acted as if she was home, which Jack found peculiar. Some women he knew would feign this and others would not bother to hide their rushed state. Lucy paused when a wandering thought crossed her mind, but soon continued once it left. She was unfazed by Jack's presence or her surroundings.

"Darling," he called.

"Yes?" Lucy turned around as she adjusted her corset.

"Ah," Jack paused, but then shook his head, "Nothing, darling. I'll go muster us up something to eat."

He left Lucy to finish dressing. Before heading to down to the galley, he checked in with Mr. Cotton at the helm. Or rather, the captain talked to his parrot. He found only the newest members of his crew working the deck. Looking out at the grey sky, Jack pulled out his compass. The needle didn't waver. Assured that their heading was on course, Jack took to the stairs. He found Mr. Gibbs relaxing in his hammock.

"Mr. Gibbs?" Jack squatted next to him.

"Aye?"

"Why are the greenhorns manning the deck, save for Mr. Cotton and his parrot?" he inquired.

"No use in getting wet if we can make them do it," Gibbs shrugged.

"You and Marty get up there to watch them," Jack ordered, "I don't trust them yet."

"Aye, captain," Gibbs nodded.

His first mate jumped out of his hammock and went to find Marty. Watching him for a moment, Jack left for the galley. Picking up two bowls of stew, Jack returned to his cabin. He found Lucy sitting at the table. She was looking over the maps, unsure of what she was taking in. Accepting the bowl from Jack's extended hand, Lucy set it on an uncovered spot of the table.

"Thank you," Lucy smiled.

"Not a problem, darling," Jack sat next to her.

Lucy continued to study the map between spoonfuls of stew. She had found her home island, Port James. Jack slide his finger to a point on the map, it was in the middle of the water. He tapped his finger, "We're about here now."

"We're heading here, yes?" she asked, her finger pointing to a larger island.

"Aye," Jack confirmed, "Who are you seeing in Tortuga?"

"Thalia Alexander and her mother," Lucy answered.

"Ah, yes, Violet," Jack commented nostalgically.

Lucy gave him a look, "You know her?"

"Quite well," he chuckled.

"I don't want to know," Lucy waved her hands, "She's like a mother to me."

"Stow your bawdy thoughts," Jack jokingly chided, "She is an old friend. Nothing more."

"Don't scold me, Jack Sparrow," she winked, "I only thought that because of the way you said it."

Jack laughed, "Aye, that's the problem."

"Indeed," she grinned.

Finishing his stew, Jack stood up and collected the bowls, "I need to make sure the lazy dogs I call a crew are actually working. If you need me and can't find me on the deck tell Mr. Gibbs. He'll get me."

"I will," Lucy agreed.

The day passed slowly, which Lucy attributed to the bleak weather. She moved around the cabin and her small room. Every few hours, Lucy found a new sitting area as she continued reading her book. Twice she fell asleep, her book covering her face. Jack came in and out periodically. He would consult a map or one of his various charts. Neither spoke to each other, they only shared a smile or a glance. Near late afternoon, the captain entered his cabin with a silver tray balanced in his hand. The clinking of china caught Lucy's attention from Jack's bed. Her legs were propped up against the bare wall with a pile of pillows behind her. Wrapped in a knitted afghan, Lucy peeked her head up from her book.

"What do you have there?" she asked.

"Tea," Jack answered, "and treats."

Lucy smiled, "Lovely."

Jack set the tray on the table and Lucy rolled out of Jack's bed. Removing his soaked jacket, Jack placed it on the back of his chair. He placed his hat on the corner of another. Joining him at the table, she picked up a teacup with an accompanying saucer. Jack brought a small spread of sweet treats, which ranged from breads to cookies. She took ahold of the teapot and filled her cup and Jack's to the rim. With the addition of a sugar cube, Lucy cautiously took a sip from her cup.

"This is delicious," Lucy sighed contently.

"It's from a friend in the Far East," Jack blew the steam away from his tea.

"Are you always this hospitable?" she chuckled.

Jack smirked, "It would be in poor taste to not be after taking you to bed."

"So you bring all of your conquests tea?" Lucy looked over to him.

"You're throwing yourself in with _that _lot?" Jack was surprised.

"Am I markedly special or different?" Lucy wondered.

He sipped his tea, "I didn't peruse you. We came together equally."

"And drunkenly," she added, "Not that it is a bad way."

"Agreed," Jack raised his cup to her.

The two indulged on sweet breads and earthy tea. As the grey skies turn black with the arrival of nighttime, a damp coldness filled the cabin. Chilled, Lucy grabbed the blanket from the bed, which she wrapped around her shoulders.

"When will we arrive in Tortuga?" she asked, returning to the table.

"Early morning," Jack answered, pouring more tea, "We'll go into town near noon."

"Aye, aye captain."

Their dinner arrived a few hours later, brought in by two of the crew members. After they laid out the spread and left, Lucy and Jack dug in. The captain was a few bites in when he stood up and brought out several bottles of wine. He filled two glasses.

"I rather not have a repeat of this morning," she remarked after a sip.

"What about last night?" the captain's brow rose with a smirk.

"I don't need any wine for that," Lucy matched his grin.

Getting up from her chair, Lucy sauntered around the table over to Jack. She picked up the skirt of her dress as she straddled his waist. Jack's arms curled around her upper thighs as Lucy kissed him. Working nimbly, her fingers slowly unbuttoned his vest. Jack unhooked her dress and slid it down her waist, which allowed him to unlace her corset.

Jack kissed the exposed flesh of her chest as he threw the corset to the floor. Excitedly, Lucy pulled at his unbuckled belts. They disentangled long enough for Jack to shed his shirt and for Lucy to pull her shift over her head. He cupped her breasts and gently squeezing them as his calloused thumbs flicked over her nipples. She tugged at the drawstrings of his trousers and pulled them down just far enough to release his manhood from the constricting fabric. It grew harder at her touch as she took it into her hand, which moved tortuously slow. Jack groaned.

His fingers slide down her thigh and slipped between her legs. They ran along the soft flesh and ended at her bud. They circled around it and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. An audible moan escaped her lips, which was followed by a gasp. Her hips rolled instinctively. Jack's hand suddenly fell away.

"Jack," she protested.

"It's not so nice now is it?" he teased.

Positioning himself, Jack guided her hips downward. Jack exhaled slowly as her silky walls encompass him. Her eyes fluttered close as he pushed deeper within her. Lucy rested her palms against his chest as she began to build a rhythm. He caught her lips with a fervent kiss. Jack's thrusts kept in time with Lucy. She could feel a familiar knot growing; her breathing quickened. Leaning closer to Jack, Lucy wrapped her arm around his neck. She kissed his sun-kissed skin.

Jack brought her lips to his. He kissed her frantically, his tongue mashing with hers. Gently biting her lower lip, Jack's hand explored her body. She moaned into the kiss.

As the knot grew heavier, Lucy's legs began to quiver. She gasped and moaned when Jack's pace picked up suddenly. He kissed every inch of her he could reach. Jack nipped at her skin and sucked on her pert breasts. He was close to the edge. His fingertips dug deeper into her hips as Lucy's legs gave out. The built up pressure finally released and Lucy cried out against his neck. She collapsed against him as Jack thrust into her deeply one last time. Riding out the wave, Jack continued to thrust slowly and eventually stopped.

Lucy shuddered in his lap, trying to catch her breath. Sleepily, Jack played with her hair. She could hear his heartbeat slow to its normal pace.

"I can't move," she laughed.

"Do you want to?" he asked.

She sighed contently, "Not at the moment. But, my dress is on the floor again."

"Like I said, I prefer you like this."

"I'll entertain your preference until tomorrow morning," she promised.

"I owe you one, darling," Jack chuckled.

Lucy sat up and stretched. Picking her up, Jack brought them over to the bed. They fell against the plush mattress, warmed by the covers.

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Thanks again for stopping by! Until next time!


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